


The Little Things

by Fis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Light-Hearted, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Dragons Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fis/pseuds/Fis
Summary: Tekhartha Zenyatta tends to notice the small things, the little details that make up our world, like how many times a butterfly may flap its wings before taking flight or the way a stream runs over the stones in its path.Genji Shimada also notices them, but in a different, more subtle way, and it's about time Tekhartha has started to notice those things in the same way as Genji does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! ♥

A gentle breeze swept throughout the balcony, swaying Zenyatta’s attire ever so slightly. There he hovered before the ground, before a large rug adorned with pillows, meditating as the moon hung high in the sky. Its silvery light cast a glow upon the balcony, which made Zenyatta’s metal shine in its light and gave his red and yellow clothing a similar glow. The reddish glow of a nearby lit brazier seemed to be so underwhelming in contrast to the moon’s light. How long he had been there was a question Genji would probably never find the answer to, nor did he really want to know. He recalled how in the past Tekhartha could sit there for hours on end, no sounds coming from him, other than his inner machinery humming. Tonight, Tekartha’s mediation was no different than his past meditations, though Genji felt as though it were.

Genji felt a smile present itself on his face at the sight of his mentor, and more importantly — his friend.  _ A good and close one, at that _ , Genji thought to himself as he had difficulty remembering being so close to another being in so long until now. Something about Zenyatta’s lithe form, something about the way he gracefully sat, even his subtle yet strongly present humming of his metallic body, made Genji feel safe. Warm even, despite the cool night air of the monastery and of the mountains. It made Genji like he was home. It wasn’t exactly the monastery — though it had its lively feel — but the little omnic — though he rose to be an inch taller than Genji at full height — was who made Genji feel all these things.

His mask was lifted for the time being, as he welcomed the Nepalese air, taking in its freshness. When he first arrived in the Shambali monastery, in Nepal, he found himself rather reluctant to show his scarred face. He felt so out of place enough, with the Nepalese people, human and omnic alike, who couldn’t help but glance at the silvery cyborg, neon greens present in his robotic flesh. The facial scars of the past pain-inflicted encounter with his older brother Hanzo would only make it worse. Therefore, it took months before Genji dared to lift his mask in public to eat, before he thought to lift his mask in the monastery outside of eating. Now, however, Genji felt himself allowing to lift his mask up much more often, relatively around Zenyatta, whom he felt the safest with.

As Genji moved forward, he dared not to speak or make much of a sound at all. He sat himself cross-legged nearly a foot or so away from Zenyatta, careful not to disturb his meditation. There he sat trying to take in his surroundings, like how the wispy clouds drifted by or how the stars seemed to sparkle, but all he could think of was Tekhartha, leaving him to notice very little about the world other than the obvious things. There was no need for words or verbal communication for Zenyatta’s company to make him feel satisfied, pleased even, for the monk was busy meditating. However, only after what felt like just a few minutes, Zenyatta had finished meditating and acknowledged Genji’s presence.

First, it was a sigh, a peaceful sigh that let Genji know Tekhartha had finished meditating. Then, he said, “Genji,” his comforting voice carrying the metallic tinge as always.

Genji allowed himself to look at Zenyatta’s face for the first time in hours. The monk’s head soon faced Genji in return “Yes, Master?” he replied, feeling slightly overwhelmed at their interaction. Although they were nearly a foot apart, Genji felt even closer to Zenyatta, so close that it made Genji’s heart light itself in a feeling Genji had been feeling for some time now.

“Your eyes,” Zenyatta began, and much to Genji’s surprise, the omnic was hesitant to continue. Genji had not known for Zenyatta to be very slow to talk at all, recalling how elegantly and proper Tekhartha usually spoke. For a moment, there was not a sound other than the hums of Zenyatta’s body — the only sound Genji could pay attention to, anyways — and then he spoke: “Your eyes are very beautiful, Genji.”

The words. It took Genji a moment to process them, to register them. His mind could only digest one word at a time, as though he was eating himself sick with delicacies as he called upon doing so in the past, specifically all those years ago in Hanamura. 

_Eyes._ _Beautiful_.

Zenyatta’s short and sweet compliment had taken Genji by surprise, as though he had been sharply struck by an agile enemy, though this was quite the opposite. Genji thought, trying to remember if it were in Tekhartha’s nature to compliment him like this. Of course, Zenyatta was a kind and generous soul. He was very observant. Genji thought of all the times they strolled through the terrain together, Zenyatta taking in all the small details. Details Genji would have never taken in, if it weren’t for Tekhartha’s small comments, such as, “Look at that tree,” or “Genji, that butterfly is lovely.”

Genji would have never imagined Zenyatta would compliment him, comment on him in the same way, in the same tone Genji recalled Tekhartha used when he commented on the world’s beauty, on nature’s small gifts, on the nearby village’s warmly appeal. The same tone when he commented on those small things, on those tiny details.

_ My eyes? Beautiful? _ Genji felt the thought bouncing around his mind. Though he could recall thinking rather highly of his looks in the past, seeing himself as desirable and charming, that was a long time ago. Over a decade ago, in fact. That was all before Hanzo had struck upon him with a harsh blade, ripping away the beauty Genji held so dear, tearing apart all the pride and charisma Genji was abound with. All those years ago, his eyes were surely commented on, how dark and stunning they might have been, how they had shone with so much life and cheer and most of all — arrogance. 

However, now as he sat inches away from the most important person in his life, Genji could scarcely call upon such a compliment, nor did he think it mattered at all, for the world’s most beautiful creation had complimented him on his eyes. Had Tekhartha ever seen his reflection? Yes, his eyes were no more than two lines, two little vent-like holes on his face that allowed him to see, but Genji had grown to admire them for their peaceful, droopy look. His form was willowy and elegant in the way he did things, his body gently and carefully moving about. It was beautiful. And although Genji could recall spending nights in dimly lit rooms with the world’s _most beautiful_ people years ago, he could not recall any of them being as attractive, as handsome as the omnic who sat beside him at this very moment.

Before he could let the compliment fully sink in, before he could try to remove the warmth from his cheeks, Genji heard Tekhartha speak again, “Your eyes — they are like the sky at night. Dark and astonishing.”

_ Astonishing. _ That’s what they were, according to Zenyatta, and it made Genji’s face feel even warmer, despite the chill clinging to the air around them. 

“Thank you,” was all Genji could say after a moment of silence. In the meantime, he had taken notice of how Zenyatta’s voice gave off a warmth Genji could not explain, how his hands moved gracefully as he spoke. Genji sat there, pondering, because he had noticed many little things after all, just like Zenyatta had. Only they weren’t in the world around them, for all the little things Genji had noticed were what made Zenyatta himself. 

He had spent all this time noticing Zenyatta’s details, and now it was time Zenyatta had begun to notice the little things about Genji in return.

  
  



End file.
